Three Dates  Part 3
by LadyMoriarty
Summary: Jim and Molly's third date. Things begin to unravel.


Molly walked into Bart's on Monday wondering if she should go visit Jim on her break. It was tempting, but she finally decided that she should wait. He might end up sending her a text and asking if she was working. Even though he had apparently been busy the rest of the weekend, he took some time to check in on her. She wondered what things he needed to do. But something in the pit of her stomach told her that she didn't really want to know.

He had been so consistently sweet and charming that nothing seemed amiss until she had been apart from him for a bit. His warm eyes seemed more dark than deep, like there was something hiding just where she couldn't see. She would force herself not to think about it. Jim was a good man, and they had a lot going for them. It would be foolish to mess that up.

He had been up in his office for a few hours by the time he heard Molly had come to work. He decided to text her. "_Come to my office when you get a chance. XX Jim_" Another hour later, there was a quiet knock on his door.

"Come in," he called, smiling to himself.

Molly slipped in nervously, as if she didn't want to be seen. "Did you want to see me?"

"Yes, I did. Come here."

She walked closer to him, and he pulled her down onto his lap. He spun the chair around a bit, causing her to cling to him. "Jim, I'm getting dizzy."

He stopped and reluctantly let her up. "I'm sorry. But I did want to see you. I've been missing you."

"That's sweet, Jim. I've missed you, too." She laughed, in spite of that rising fear.

"I was thinking, I've decided everything we do together. This time, you get to pick. What do you want to do on our next date?"

Molly stood and thought for a bit, unsure of what could possibly be interesting enough. "I could cook dinner for you," she finally blurted out hastily.

He grinned. "I'd love that, Molly. I've had to hide the brownies you made so I don't eat all of them. I'd love to taste more of your cooking."

"Great! Do you want me to make anything in particular?"

"You have free reign, love. Anything you make is good enough for me," he told her, kissing her cheek and placing his hand at the small of her back to bring her a bit closer to him.

She laughed a little tensely. "Okay. When do you want to come over?"

"I have nights off, so it's up to you. When can you have me over?"

She was so close to him that she almost couldn't breathe. His arm tightened around her waist as if he thought she'd run screaming. "Can I go ask someone to cover a night and text you later?"

"Yes, of course, my dear," he whispered almost menacingly, putting his other arm around her and bringing his face close to hers. He was beginning to drop his act in front of her.

His mouth found hers, and he began to kiss her roughly. She felt him pushing her against the nearest stable surface, which happened to be the edge of his desk, and a pang of terror shot through her body. He brought one hand to her cheek, leaving the other firmly anchored around her waist to keep her close. In that moment, he wasn't the shy, sweet Jim from IT. He was James Moriarty, and he didn't care about hiding it. She didn't have the strength to push him off, but he wasn't going to hurt her. He just couldn't fake his identity around her anymore.

When he finally let her up, she looked more than a bit shocked and disheveled. He kissed her cheek gently and began fixing her hair for her, his facade firmly back in place. "I'm sorry, Molly, that was out of line. Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head, a little out of breath from the shock. "I'm all right."

He took her face in his hands and looked squarely into her eyes, making sure she was all right. But she was terrified of him at that moment. He'd become so uncharacteristically aggressive with her. To make her feel better and more comfortable, he kissed her nose gently. "I am so sorry, Molly. Please forgive me."

She pulled her face away. "It's fine, Jim. I'll text you when I know what nights I have off."

He touched her arm gently. "Molly, please don't leave it like this. I'm so sorry for that." He didn't have to fake being contrite; he actually felt bad for how he had acted, which scared him a bit. She actually made him regret something, and he yearned for her to truly forgive him.

Molly looked at him, seeing how sad he looked that she was mad at him. It softened her. "Okay, Jim, I forgive you. But I've got to get back to work. I will text you before the end of the day."

He pulled her into his arms for a hug. "I'll see you soon."

She left his office feeling terribly shaken. It was a side of Jim she had never seen and didn't want to see again. The coldness she'd seen in his eyes when she first met him had returned, even if it was just for a fleeting moment. She was genuinely frightened of that coldness, and it gave her pause to rethink their relationship.

She did ask for a night off that week so she could text Jim before the end of the day. Someone was willing to take her Friday night, which made her happy. She pulled out her phone and texted Jim to let him know she had a night off. His reply was quick. "_I can't wait. And I hope you're not still upset, babe. XX Jim_"

She struggled with what to make for dinner, afraid that nothing she cooked would be good enough for Jim. She finally decided on a meal that she hoped would impress him, since it was so far out of her comfort zone: brie in puff pastry with apples and crackers as a starter, pan-roasted whole snapper, citrus and almond green beans, and a strawberry tart.

Jim came over right after work, as he had promised. Molly's flat smelled as good as the gourmet restaurants he frequented on a regular basis. He didn't know what she had been cooking, but the smell made him curious. He leaned against the counter, watching her as she peered in at whatever was in the oven. She was more interesting to him than whatever she happened to be checking on, even though it smelled good enough to remind him that he was hungry.

He watched her the way panther would watch his prey, trying desperately and in vain to decipher how one simple woman could actually make him care. Even though he knew everything about her, she didn't make much sense. If she were any other woman, he'd have spent one night with her then moved on to the next person. But he looked at her and felt something he'd thought was a myth. It wasn't love; it couldn't have been. He wasn't capable of loving anyone. But he wanted to be near her. The feeling made him both sick and happy. He didn't want to have a single weakness, but he had one now.

It occurred to him that he'd have to get someone to keep an eye on her. Being close to him, even unknowingly, put her in a lot of danger. That was the last thing he wanted. He found himself feeling angry that there was even a slight chance she could be hurt in his name.

"Jim?" she whispered, seeing his face flushing with rage. It scared her.

The way she drawled his name, in her sweet voice, calmed him a bit and brought him back into the moment. "Can I help?"

"Would you light the candles on the table?" she asked, fishing a stick lighter out of a drawer and handing it to him.

The table was already set with the finest dinnerware she had. It wasn't spectacular, but she was making an effort for him. He lit the two long taper candles and placed the lighter back in the drawer where it belonged. "Are you going to tell me what we're having for dinner?" he asked playfully, placing his hands at her hips and kissing her neck as she stirred a pan of green beans.

She shrugged and rebuffed him. "Let me cook please."

He stepped back, feeling dejected. It hurt in a way he couldn't explain. Her voice wasn't mean or harsh, but it had lost its sweet edge. She had pushed him away. He worried that something was amiss with her, fearing she had begun suspecting something about him. He had dropped his cover with her a few times, so maybe she had picked up on it.

All of that was just speculation, though. He was being too careful. Even while he kept up his image as Jim from IT, a part of him wanted to confess everything to Molly because he was tired of lying to her. He shook that thought from his head as quickly as it had entered. The less she knew about him, the safer she would be.

"Dinner is ready, Jim," she told him, back to her sweet and cheery self.

He kissed her cheek. "It smells great, babe."

She smiled. "I hope you're hungry."

They sat down at her small dinner table together. It was pretty clear that she didn't entertain very often. "We should have asked my friend Sherlock to play some violin music for us," she laughed as they started eating.

Jim stopped cold. Molly knew Sherlock. His facade shattered completely, leaving Jim from IT dead in the dust. Moriarty was out and wouldn't be tamed back in. His struggle played out on his face as he bit back a few choice comments. Molly looked on with terror in her eyes as the monster emerged from inside. She wanted to run, but fear kept her paralyzed. She couldn't even speak in an effort to calm him down. The coldness she was so scared of had come back into his eyes, and she realized that Jim was a lie.

He met her eyes, hating that he could scare her so badly. "I'm so sorry, Molly," he murmured. It was inadequate, but he couldn't think of anything that would have made up for the horror that had occurred. He reached out to touch her arm, trying to soothe away her fear. She didn't recoil from him, but she sat unmoving like a statue. He had blown it.

They sat in painful silence for what seemed like hours, just looking at each other. Molly fought back tears a couple of times. Jim felt guilty for how he had hurt her. The thought of someone else hurting her infuriated him, but knowing he had been the one to crush her caused his heart to ache. There were no words to justify what he'd done, so he didn't speak at all.


End file.
